In Sickness and in Health
by CurlyHairedDemon
Summary: Elle comes down with an illness over the holidays, and Emmett tries to be the perfect friend for her while trying to figure out how to be so much more. Ellett.
1. Tests and Tests

It was times like this when Emmett felt like an asshole. Crying on a park bench like—

Like Elle. It reminded him of the time where she had been weeping about how _cruel_ Vivienne and Warner could be (wearing a Playboy bunny costume, he recalled), and that was when he told her to suck it up and buckle down, because law school was going to be a wild ride. He half expected Elle, a vision in pink, to come up next to him and give him a similar speech.

This was honestly the first time he had left her side for something aside from class or work or sleeping or eating in a month. Right before the final before Christmas break began, Elle began to feel ill. She shrugged it off as a headcold, though the chesty coughs that racked her body had made Emmett flinch when they studied together. She had collapsed when she and Emmett had gone for their ritual pre-test, good-luck coffee date the morning of the test, but would not allow her friend to take her to the emergency room.

Emmett had waited outside her test room, tapping his foot nervously, determined to take her to the doctor—even if he had to drag her—as soon as she came through those doors. Finally, the test ended and the class came out. She came last, her face pale beneath the makeup, and her pace slow and shaky.

"Elle!" Emmett yelped as he leapt to his feet. "Are you okay?!"

"Emmett," her smile still managed to thrill the enamored man. "I'm okay, really—" Her reassuring words were cut off as she broke into a coughing fit, this one sending her already-shaking knees folding like paper.

Emmett caught her, half-carrying her to his car, shocked at how cold she felt in his arms.

She coughed and coughed for the whole ride, slumping slightly.

"Hey, little Miss Woods comma Elle," Emmett gave her shuddering back a reassuring pat, even though his own hands trembled slightly. "Where's your perfect posture?"

She didn't seem to hear him through her violent coughs

The beautiful blonde's coughing had somewhat subsided by the time they reached the hospital, and her ditzy demeanor had returned somewhat.

"Emmett, I did so great on that test!" Elle told him, though her eyes were lidded and her voice was raspy.

"Of course you did," Emmett paused in his concern to give her a warm smile. "Now come on, let's get you into the building."

"Why are we at a hospital?" Elle asked. "I just have—"

"A headcold? Bullshit. Now _get out of the car_," Emmett was not a particularly harsh man, nor was he particularly stern, but the authority in his voice and the ice-cold look he pierced her with was enough to silence the suddenly-taken-aback Elle.

They entered the building in silence, Elle wobbling slightly on her stilettos, somewhat fuming at Emmett…

They sat in the waiting room, anger spiking silently between them both. Finally, a nurse came out and called, "Woods?"

Emmett leapt up as Elle struggled to her feet. The nurse gave him a strange look.

"You can't come back with me, silly," Elle gave him a small smile.

"O-of course," Emmett sat down again, flustered. "But," he said to the nurse, "_make sure_ she tells you about the fainting. And the coughing."

"Emmett, I'm—"

"_Make sure_."

Emmett sighed nervously as Elle disappeared into the back with the nurse. He had been trained as a high-profile lawyer to Expect the Worse. Expect that your client is guilty of everything. Expect that the witness won't go for the bait in cross-examination. Expect that you'll get fired if you lose this one. Expect, expect, expect.

Expect the worse. Emmett had been expecting the worst with Elle from day one. When he'd met the silly blonde, he had expected her to flunk. When he'd offered to tutor her, he had expected her not to take it seriously. When he'd fallen in love with her, he had expected her not to reciprocate. _One out of three, Forrest, _Emmett thought moodily, playing with his hands.

And once again, he was expecting the worse. Something terminal. Cancer, maybe? He shook his head. No, that was stupid. Elle ate well. She didn't smoke. She exercised. Oh, but she spent _so much_ time at that nail salon! Who _knew _what she inhaled there!

Emmett jumped as the door opened again. He glanced at his watch; half an hour had passed… oh, what _did _this all mean?

Elle stood there in hospital socks (pink ones, of course), in a _very _short hospital gown, her blond hair pulled up into a ponytail.

"Elle!" Emmett yelped. A hospital gown was _not _a good sign. "What's wrong? What did the doctor say?"

"He said, like, double pneumonia?" Elle's adorable valley-girl way of speech got about a thousand times more noticeable when she was scared or nervous. "And I have to get a chest X-ray?"

Emmett felt his eye twitch, suddenly very much hating this doctor, though, if _he _were in the position to examine Elle's chest, he probably couldn't have resisted the temptation either.

"Oh, man," Emmett tried to sound a little sympathetic, even though he was incredibly relieved. "That—"

"Would you sit with me while they're taking the x-ray?" she asked, her big blue eyes finding his sharp green ones in concern and…was that fear?

"Of course," Emmett said, trying to sound cool and relaxed and as though he had _not _been anticipating the worst case scenario for the last half-hour.

"Thank you so much, Emmett," Elle let out a sigh of relief, but that made her cough even more.

She turned on her-pink clad feet, her ponytail bouncing.

Emmett cocked an eyebrow at the ribbon of warm, creamy skin that her blue hospital gown left exposed. No. _No._ He would not leer. He did not want to leer. His eyes locked straight ahead, but his will cratered quickly as they swiftly followed the stretch of flesh, starting with the hairs at the nape of her neck and following over the even bumps of her spine—that skin _looked_ smooth, did it _feel_ that way?—until his vision tailed to

Whoah, fancy looking underwear. Red and lacy. Emmett choked quietly on his own spit. _Hot._

His eyes leapt up to the upper part of her back, spotting the bit of skin that should have _probably _had a brassiere… Did they make her take it off for the examination? Or did she just not wear one? Maybe because it was a test day? Or did she just not wear one around _him_? (He very much hoped so on that last one).

Emmett screamed an undignified, girly, squeal as he walked into a wall, completely distracted by the vision before him.

"Emmett!" Elle turned to face him, her face struck with even more worry. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Emmett reassured her, even though his forehead was absolutely _throbbing_.

They finally entered the x-ray room, which was filled with very intimidating equipment. The doctor stood there, and all desire of Emmett's to knock the person's teeth into their perverted face drained, as the doctor was, herself, a very pretty black woman with a rather knowing stare.

Elle _hated_ x-rays! She'd had to get one once when she had hurt her wrist riding a bicycle when she was ten. She couldn't really remember the incident, but she could remember feeling terrified and sick and in pain for the whole thing, so much so that her mother took her out for ice cream immediately afterwards. And it wasn't even low-fat! That's how bad it was for Elle.

She really appreciated Emmett's presence, though his concern was a bit overbearing, she was grateful for his standing there, with worry in his wide, green eyes as he looked down at her.

"Okay, Miss Woods," the doctor helped her onto the table. "Just lie still."

"Can I talk?" Elle asked nervously. She chattered to no end when she was nervous.

"No, that will move your lungs too much for a good picture," the doctor told her kindly.

Emmett pulled up the chair next to Elle's head and immediately began to fill the conversation with his own chatter, more to comfort Elle than anything else.

"Well, I know you weren't planning on going home for Christmas, but on the week of Christmas, I usually visit my mom in Jersey… So, if you feel up to it, I was thinking you could come with me," Emmett said nervously. He honestly had not planned on introducing Elle to his mother until he had worked up the nerve to confess his love to the pretty blonde. His mother had a _lot_ of embarrassing stories that he could barely stand to have his girlfriend feel, let alone his crush.

"She makes _really _good cookies," Emmett finished that thought lamely. "But I'm not going to let you slack over the holidays," he told her with a small smirk. "Callahan always does _nasty_ pop quizzes when students get back from vacation. If you want the internship in the summer, you're going to have to bust your—" the elegant doctor gave him a reprimanding look from behind her little control panel "—butt, seriously, Elle."

The blonde nodded feverishly, looking highly uncomfortable.

"We're almost done, sweetie," the doctor told her patient in a soothing voice. To Emmett she said, "Stretch, go get your girlfriend's clothes."

"She's not my—"

"_Out_."

**-**

**I love these guys. I am PMSing like nothing else. I bought the soundtrack. This is the result. R/R**


	2. Overdo

Emmett made his way to the exam room that Elle was in and carefully picked up the neatly folded bundle of clothing on the counter, grabbing the bright pink stilettos on the floor. There was a small sound as an article of clothing slid to the floor. Emmett looked down and raised an eyebrow. A lacy red bra. How nice.

With utmost care, he picked the thing up and tucked it between her blouse and slacks, feeling a pleasant heat spread to his face as a smirk came. He made his way casually back to the x-ray room.

Elle's eyes, which had been squeezed shut, popped open as she heard the door creak. Emmett entered, carrying her clothes.

"That wasn't so bad, was it, Woods comma Elle?" Emmett smiled at her. Elle shook her head.

"Just give me my clothes, Forrest comma Emmett," she told him with a look.

"Doesn't have the same ring to it," Emmett shook his head as he obliged. As Elle went into the bathroom to change (Emmett snuck one last look at her ass), Emmett looked at the doctor.

"Will she be okay?"

"Double pneumonia. It's no fun, but for a young lady, it should be fine if she stays in bed and keeps herself warm," the doctor said. "She's got family up here, right?"

"Er, no," Emmett said. "They're in Malibu."

"Oh, well I hope she wasn't planning on going home for the holidays. There's no way she's on an airplane this month."

"I wasn't," Elle came out of the bathroom, once again in her clothing. "But why can't I fly?"

"Your lungs will explode from the change in air pressure," the doctor said casually as she looked through the x-rays. Elle grayed considerably.

"Could your parents come up here?" Emmett asked her, his voice wobbling slightly at the last thought.

"No," Elle shook her head. "Mom and Daddy have so many parties to go to this time of year. It's, like, an obligation."

"Well, do you have anyone to stay with here? Because you can't take care of yourself, sweetie," the doctor said. "You need to have constant bed rest. In fact, sit down," the doctor gave Emmett a look, and the lank man immediately vacated his chair for his blonde friend.

"Maybe Paulette?" Emmett glanced down at the object of his affections. The jolly manicurist certainly wasn't the first person to cross his mind for this purpose, but it was wholly more respectable than his original idea.

"I'm sure she'd love to, but her trailer is way too small for another person and dog," Elle shook her head. "Emmett?"

"Yes?" Emmett tried to pretend he had completely NOT thought of what she was about to ask him.

"Could I stay with you?"

"W-well," Emmett turned bright red and coughed nervously into his hand, "if you—I mean…" He smiled down at her affectionately. "Of course."

"Okay," the doctor looked thoroughly fed up with the soap opera unfolding before her eyes. "I'm going to give you two prescriptions. You're going to have to take them and stay in bed for a long time. Make sure to dress warmly, and don't go out unless you absolutely have to. Eat lots of hot foods, too."

"All right," Elle stood up.

"Oh, and…" the doctor glared a bit at Emmett as she imparted her last piece of advice, "no strenuous physical activity."

"We're _not_—" Emmett began with a red face, but Elle cut him off.

"But I'm gonna get fat!"

The doctor gave Emmett a look that said, 'Is she for real?'

"You'll be fine," she soothed her patient.

-

"I called Paulette, and she said she'll babysit Bruiser as long as we need," Elle said to Emmett over the phone. He had dropped her off at the dorm to pack some things. "And I hope I'll be better by Christmas, because I really don't want to miss meeting your mom."

"It's December 3rd," Emmett reassured her. "I'm sure you'll be over it in plenty of time." He glanced around his apartment as he wiped his brow. As soon as he had arrived home, he had completely cleaned the place for the new, feminine presence that would be arriving shortly. He had scrubbed the grout of his bathroom, cleaned out the medicine cabinet, completely threw everything out of his closet in his bedroom, and completely dumped out the doors of his bedside table. He had even bought new sheets for his queen-sized bed. His old, warm flannel ones had been a housewarming gift from his mother, but they were so _old_ and _ratty_ and he couldn't make Elle sleep on them.

Okay, Emmett was going overboard and he knew it. He felt like he was preparing for her to move in with him permanently, even though he was just playing nurse for the extent of Christmas break, stocking up on soups and ramen and tea and hot cocoa.

In spite of this, he had showered for about an hour, carefully brushing his teeth and doing his hair (he managed to keep restrain himself from using _cologne_). He had carefully dressed, and neatly made up his sofa (using his mother's sheets) for himself.

After all, what kind of gentleman would he be if he made his lady friend sleep on the couch?

Taking a deep breath, he went down and, with a few prayers, managed to start his absolutely ancient Volvo.

**-**

**Shorter chapter is short, because I am evil. R/R!**


	3. Emmett's Entendres

Finally, he arrived in front of Elle's dorm building, practically hyperventilating. Trying to remain calm and casual, he walked up to her room and knocked on the door.

"It's open," Elle's voice came cheerily. Emmett entered her room, suddenly dreading the amount a young woman as impractical as Elle was capable of packing.

With some relief, Emmett saw that she only had two medium-sized duffel bags. He took one from her. "Whoah!" he yelped at the weight of the bag. "No, let me guess… hair products?"

"Shut up," Elle giggled weakly. "It's _law books_. I've got to keep studying!" Emmett felt the breath leave his chest as he was overwhelmed by how much he adored her. How could anyone _be_ so determined?

"Could we take a few of your pillows?" he said, pointing to the mountain of fluffy pink cushions on her bed. "I don't have enough at my place."

"Of course," Elle smiled. "Take the comforter too, if you'd like."

Fumbling slightly under the weight of all his burdens, Emmett haphazardly made his way down the staircase, carefully setting all her possessions in his back seat. Elle settled into the passenger seat with her bag of clothes on her lap.

Emmett reddened slightly as they entered his neighborhood. He surreptitiously glanced at Elle. He was thankful to see her eyes were closed, though her breathing was a little shallow, and there was a slight crease between her eyes.

"How are you feeling, Elle?" Emmett prayed she wouldn't notice how…_poor_ his neighbor hood was.

"To be honest?" she glanced at him before closing her eyes again. "It feels like my chest is full of cotton."

Emmett stared at her chest, not quite hearing the end of her comment. He ripped is eyes away suddenly, narrowly avoiding hitting a mailbox as he turned the wheel sharply. "Well, _that's_ not hard to believe," he mumbled, a little harried.

"_Emmett!_" Elle sat up straight in her seat. "You big—you—"

"Sorry, sorry," Emmett grinned, happy she had the energy to slap him on the shoulder. "I should tease a sickie, I know."

"Emmett!" Elle yelped again. Emmett smiled like an idiot, absolutely loving the way his name sounded when it rolled off her lips.

"Oh, Elle, I'm just kidding," he patted her knee consolingly as he pulled in front of his apartment building.

"…you jerk…" Elle giggled, though.

-

"Welcome to my home, Miss Woods comma Elle," he told her with a sweeping gesture as they entered his apartment. "If a man's home is his castle, then let me tell you, I am no king," Emmett smiled. He had been nervously thinking of a one-liner to ease the all-around _dinginess_ of his wretched apartment. Elle was way too good for this place, just like she was way too good for him.

"Don't be stupid, Emmett," Elle told him as she grinned up at him. "I love it. I wish I lived here."

"Well, until further notice," Emmett took her bags into the bedroom, trying to ignore the swill of pleasure that spun his mind at her last words, "you do."

Elle glanced at where the sofa was made up for someone to sleep.

"Um, Emmett?" Elle looked down shyly, her toes curling nervously into the 80's shag carpet.

"Something wrong?" Emmett came out, his teasing grin gone.

"I… I think I need to go back to the dorm…" she squinted at her tall friend's knee.

"What, you're tired of me already?" Emmett asked with a smirk, though his stomach twisted uncomfortably.

"No! No… It's—," Elle sucked in her breath. "It's really stupid."

"What is it?" Emmett asked curiously. "Elle?"

"It's really really really really really _really_—,"

"What is it?"

"," Elle rushed, her face growing red with shame.

"…run that by me again?" Emmett raised an eyebrow, though his heart nearly exploded.

"It's really stupid," she told him again.

"I think you've established that. You thought we would be _sleeping_ together?" Emmett's voice spiked in pitch on the second-to-last word.

"Not _that _way, Emmett!" she stamped her feet. "It's just how we did things in Delta Nu, when we did it with the frats…"

"Bad choice of words," he told her with a small smile tugging at his face.

"Did—," Elle reddened further when she realized what she had said. "_Emmett!_"

"Easy, easy, doc!" Emmett laughed, holding up his hands. "Now, why do you need to go back to your dorm?"

"I didn't bring my warmest pajamas…" Elle's face reddened, and her eyes once again dropped to the floor.

"Look, make yourself at home, and _I'll _run back and get your pajamas," Emmett told her with a pat on the shoulder. "And I'll take the other ones back while I'm at it."

"Okay," Elle proceeded to sit down on the couch. Emmett rolled his eyes.

"Elle, you're in the bedroom, I'm on the couch," he told her. "Duh."

"Sorry!" Elle said defensively. "That's where Warner would have had me sleep…" she mumbled, gesturing to the sofa.

_And Warner,_ Emmett fumed inwardly, _is an asshole. _Out loud, he said, "Pajamas, Elle."

"Sor_ry_," she gave him a sharp look. Stumbling into the bedroom, Elle dug into her suitcase and tossed some filmy things at Emmett. He caught them and set them on his wardrobe. Elle stopped what she was doing.

"Elle? Focus," Emmett gave her a light poke in the back.

"Those _are_ my pajamas," Elle told him.

"Oh," Emmett paled considerably. "_Oh_."

"I keep my flannel pajamas in my top drawer. There are three sets, so make sure to get them all," Elle told him.

"Okay, okay," Emmett raised his hands in surrender, the slinky negligees gathered in one fist. "I'm going. You'll be rid of me. The remote's on top of the TV. Raid the refrigerator. Try not to set anything on fire."

"Hmph," Elle replied, digging into her bag full of law books.

Emmett laughed as he turned on his heel. He smiled giddily as soon as his back was to her. This would be the best Christmas break _ever_. He didn't care that Callahan was making him work. He didn't care that Elle would be extremely grumpy without being able to go in for a manicure for a while. He didn't even care that he was at high risk of also contracting pneumonia. Emmett was just—

There was a sound of feet behind him, and suddenly the tall man felt warm arms wrapped tightly around his waist and a pretty face (it even _felt_ pretty!) pressed into his back.

"I forgot to say," Elle mumbled against the fabric of his worn corduroy jacket, "thank you."

Turning in her arms, Emmett hugged her too, feeling as though he could have floated out of shoes.

Emmett, for now, would have Elle. And to him? That was the best thing in the world.

**Shit, I am absolutely addicted to writing this… :P My bleach followers are going to kill me… **


	4. Warner's Wonderings

Emmett sighed gustily as he walked up to the floor that contained Elle's dorm room. There was a familiar voice.

"Oh, hey, Emmett," Warner greeted him with polite boredom. "Looking for Elle?"

"No, actually," Emmett's voice was a more of a snipe than he had intended.

"Hmph, well, Barbie's probably on her back to Malibu, anyways," Warner raised a cool eyebrow.

"Actually," Emmett began, determined to deflate Warner's pompous demeanor, "I was just dropping _these_—," he allowed Warner a passing glance at the lingerie, "—off for her. She left them at my apartment." Emmett tried to sound proud, yet demure, as his lungs heaved in attempt to restrain his laughter.

Warner's jaw dropped. "She—?!"

Emmett nodded in some satisfaction as he used Elle's key to open her door. "Oh, and Warner?"

The handsome law student continued to gape at him.

"She wouldn't be going to Malibu, seeing how she's moved in with me," Emmett tried to keep himself from laughing as Warner's face turned red, then grey, then red again. It was his entire intention to steal the self-important prick's thunder, and it appeared to be working magnificently.

Warner turned on his heel, apparently very confused by this revelation. "…couldn't see Marilyn spending Christmas in a cardboard box…" he mumbled.

Emmett's smugness evaporated to be replaced by righteous fury. He fumbled with his keyring, dropping it twice before managing to slip it into Elle's door.

Slamming it behind him, he went to Elle's bureau as she had directed, pulling the top drawer open violently. He took a few deep breaths as he carefully sorted through the blonde's socks, pulling out her flannel pajamas.

He _hated_ Warner, Emmett decided viciously. He was a cynic by nature, but even people as blasé and insensitive and _arrogant_ as _him_ certainly, certainly made Emmett very, very mad.

Elle Woods, in Emmett's humble (and completely biased) opinion, was an amazing woman: she was kind, smart, and beautiful, and so indomitably _sweet_ that it absolutely broke Emmett's heart, especially the way she was so devoted to Warner, when he was such an—

Emmett sighed as he closed the drawer. If he had been dating Elle (the mere thought made his face redden and his palms sweat), he would have _never_ in a million years broken up with her.

But skinny poor boys from Jersey did not wind up with women like Elle. That was a fact.

Emmett sighed for a third time. He wished he could be better for Elle.

Emmett wished this same wish as he begged his _stupid_ car to start.

He wished this as he tried to ignore the depressing desolation of his ratty, wretched neighborhood.

He wished this as he climbed up the creaky, smelly stairs to his apartment.

"Elle, I'm back," he called tiredly.

"Welcome home," Elle greeted warmly from the bedroom. Even though she meant it in a casual, friendly way, Emmett felt suddenly warm and content and utterly _shy_ at those words.

"Your pajamas," Emmett tossed them onto the bed. "I have some stuff to read for this case Callahan is taking over the break, but do you need anything?"

"No," Elle shook her head, flinging her pretty blonde hair.

"Okay," Emmett touched her shoulder gently. "Try to get some sleep, okay?"

-

Emmett came again around 11 PM, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He paused in his motions. Elle was flopped back onto her pillows, texting sleepily on her pink phone.

"It's only 8 in California," Elle mumbled sleepily.

"Party's just getting started at Delta Nu, I imagine," Emmett smiled.

"It _is _a day ending in 'y'," Elle giggled.

"Hey, if you don't mind my asking," Emmett opened his top drawer, a bit surprised to find lacy underclothes and fluffy pajamas mixed in among his socks and boxers, "why do you have pajamas with _ducks_ on them?"

"Oh, well, I got them because ducks make me think of you," Elle told him, not looking up from her phone.

"_Ducks _remind you of me?" Emmett asked incredulously, hoping she couldn't see his pink face.

"What are those ones with the green heads?" Elle asked, sitting up slightly to look at him.

"Mallards?"

"Yeah," Elle nodded as she flopped back into the pillows. "Your eyes are that color. That's why."

"And why do you want pajamas that remind you of me?" Emmett mumbled, suddenly very focused on his sock drawer. "So you'll remember to study, I assume?"

"I—," Elle made a noise, someplace between a cough and a groan of frustration. "Look, they were on sale, okay?"

Emmett felt a little disappointed, so he changed the subject, "Did you take your medicine?"

"Yes, and it tastes like crap," Elle blew a very unladylike raspberry at the ceiling.

"Did you do the thing with the stethoscope?"

"Yes, and I sound like crap," Elle told him.

"You, Woods comma Elle," Emmett looked at her with a wry grin—

"Stop calling me that!"

"—are not a night-owl," Emmett finished. "Now get some sleep; I don't think your doctor likes me, and she'll be pissed at _me_ if you don't get your rest."

"What are you doing tomorrow, Emmett?" Elle asked.

"Taking care of you, _duh_," Emmett told her, giving her a light poke in the back. "And going into Callahan's office to work on his case and help him grade the tests."

"Ohmigod!" Elle sat up straight in bed, which was clearly a bad idea, as she immediately started coughing again.

"Take it easy," Emmett's voice was concerned as he sat next to her on the bed.

"Will you be grading my test?" Elle's eyes were wide as her fingers dug into his hand.

"I dunno, probably," Emmett told her, trying to extract his hand from her iron grip.

"Could you find out my grade for me? Please? Pleasepleaseplease?" she begged. Her blue eyes were wide and her blond hair was standing up from the static. To Emmett, she had never looked more beautiful.

Emmett felt his heart soften under her pleading gaze. He could _never_ say no to her, could he?

**-**

**:-P For some odd reason, I could completely see Emmett doing this to Warner.**


	5. Elle's Ecstasy

Emmett couldn't say he minded the new, feminine presence in his house. His bathroom sometimes smelled strangely like chlorine and roses, lacey underwear (straight from the Victoria's Secret catalogue Emmett had tossed in the garbage in anticipation for Elle's tenure) showed up in his laundry bin, and once, tampons appeared on his grocery list in the kitchen. Aside from those strange occurrences, Elle was actually a rather complacent guest. She tried to get up early enough to bid Emmett farewell on his way to work, most of the time bantering with him (neither of them were morning people).

Emmett would always reply to her snarky comments with, "I'm going. You'll be rid of me. The remote's on top of the TV. Raid the refrigerator. Try not to set anything on fire."

And Elle would stop her teasing to break into a sincere smile and reply, "Thank you, Emmett. Have a good day."

And he would say, "You too, Elle."

They both loved it, though neither of them would _ever_ tell the other.

When he returned from work, he would always say, "I'm home!"

And the reply always came, "Welcome home."

Emmett loved it. No matter how pissy Callahan had been, no matter how poor the weather was, no matter how crappy he felt, Emmett's day suddenly became the new best day of his life as soon as he heard her cheerful greeting.

He would change out of his work clothes, make her some dinner, chat for a bit, do whatever work he needed to have done while Elle read a textbook, and then Emmett would quiz her on it. That was how their days went, and neither of them would have it any other way.

"Tell me what I got on my final, Emmett, you jerk!" Elle jumped up and down excitedly. Emmett had told her (with a rather sly grin on his face) that he would not tell her the test score until he was absolutely, positively sure that she would ace Callahan's quiz. She had been begging him for almost two weeks, now.

"Define 'Articles of incorporation'…" Emmett told her, ignore the order. A smug grin was taking over his face. "And quit jumping up and down, or else Okine's going to have both our heads." After going in with Elle for a weekly check-up, Emmett had discovered the name of the stern-looking doctor, a one Cassidy Okine, who still, it seemed, did not like Emmett at all.

"Em_mett_…" Elle begged. She looked at her lanky friend, who was bending over, shielding his book from her line of vision. Emmett's dark hair was shaggy and in need of a trim. His long back arched over his crossed legs and mismatched woolly socks. He had not changed out of his slacks from work yet, though he had unbuttoned his dress shirt to allow air to circulate to the undershirt beneath. His face, with the big beaky nose and narrowed green eyes, peered over his shoulder at her, a playful grin the only hint to her grade.

"Define it," he repeated himself coolly.

"…you jerk," Elle sat up suddenly. "If you don't tell me… um… I'll kiss you or something and then you'll get sick too and that will serve _you _right."

Emmett quickly turned his head away, though his suddenly red ears belied his feelings. "Is that a promise?" he asked calmly.

"Yes!" Elle told him, crossing her arms churlishly. "Now tell me!"

"Nope," Emmett told her, grinning widely as he peeked over his shoulder again.

"Ergh!" Elle groaned in frustration before hitting Emmett in the back of the head with a pink pillow. She coughed suddenly.

"Easy, _easy_, Elle," Emmett spun where he sat, twisting the comforter and mindlessly knocking his law book to the ground with a thump. His eyes wide with concern and all trace of humor gone from his face. Emmett's long fingers found her shoulder and massaged the pink-flannel covered spot nervously until she finished.

"Tell me!" Elle told him again hoarsely, leaning close, until her lips were mere inches from his.

"Define…" Emmett forgot term he was quizzing her on as his voice quavered and his eyes widened.

Elle rattled it off smoothly.

"98%. Highest in the class. Callahan would have stuck a gold star on it if he kept them at his desk," Emmet mumbled quickly, cracking under her gaze.

"Ohmigod!" Elle squealed. She launched herself at Emmett, kissing him briefly on the lips, before leaping off the bed to run around the apartment. "Highest in the class?! Ohmigod, Emmett, ohmigod!"

Emmett didn't quite hear her. He had slumped over on his bed, shell-shocked as his heart nearly exploded in his chest. Elle had kissed him. It had been _completely_ spur of the moment, _completely_ unexpected, and he had _completely_ just sat there like a chunk of poor, lanky granite.

Albeit, Elle didn't seem to notice. Emmett vaguely heard her alternate between squealing and coughing. His pale face glowing like a magnificent red sunset, Emmett touched his lips, dimly aware of the joyful laughter emanating from the living room. He sat up, his shirt wrinkled, and his hair askew, and Elle came through the door again, tackling him into a hug that knocked him backward onto the bed again. Emmett, this time, responded by trying to put his arms around her, but she had already rolled off him to pick up his law book from the floor.

"Catch, silly!" Elle laughed gaily, her blond hair untidy. "Come on, come on, come on, we need to study! Callahan is going to expect me to do really well on the pop quiz, so come on!!!"

Emmett silently wondered how anyone so _ill _could be so energetic. Trying to reorganize the thoughts in his spinning head, he licked his lips tentatively. "Mens rea?"

Hours later, Elle glanced down at Emmett who had been silently listening as she tried to summarize _McFarson vs. The State of Kentucky_ a few hours later. His face was planted firmly into the book before him, and his back rose and fell in a slow, steady movement to indicate that Emmett Forrest was indeed very tired.

Elle glanced at the clock, her eyes widening at the late hour. It was 3 in the morning, and she had gotten up at 7!

"Em, wake up," Elle nudged him with her foot. "Emmett!" He barely stirred. Elle stared down at him with a look of irritation on her face. "Your shirt's getting wrinkled!" she said loudly, poking him in the calf stretched out on the pillow next to her head.

Emmett snored softly.

"Okay, but you better not drool on that book," Elle told her tired friend. She flicked off the light and rolled over softly. "Goodnight, Emmett!"

-

**Keeping her test scores from her is totally something Emmett would do. Random smooching is totally something Elle would do… riiight?**

**LIGHT MY FIRE WITH REVIEWS! TELL ME WHATEVER! I WANT TO HEAR IT ALL!**

**(oh, and for those of you going to say, why is Elle so peppy?, I had pneumonia (causing me to miss a month of 1****st**** grade) It's not a picnic, but it doesn't make you horribly weak or anything. Plus, Elle is SUPERDUPER ENERGETIC!)**

**Law Terms fixed. Curly haired fail!!!**


	6. The Best Night

**OMFG… If you were wondering about the missing/jumbled words in the last chapter, I inserted those to remind me to look up legal terms in the morning (I was writing at 1 AM) and 1 AM plans and 7 AM memories are apparently not a good pair, because I COMPLETELY spaced it. SO sorry. I'll fix them ASAP.**

-

Emmett sat up in bed with a grunt. His neck was stiff from sleeping without pillows, and Elle's twitchy feet found his face a little too painfully for his face.

He crawled out of the bed, his back painful. Emmett stood up, his joints cracking uncomfortably. He paused to give Elle a final look.

She was absolutely beautiful when she slept. Her hair fanned out smoothly over the pillows, and her face was relaxed. His eyes caught hungrily on her abdomen, where her pajama shirt had hiked up to reveal the smooth skin to the world. She mumbled in her sleep as she readjusted herself on the pillows. Emmett touched her hair gently before pulling the sheets up to her chin. Sighing, he exited the room, crawling onto his couch.

"Goodnight, Emmett," a muttering came from the bedroom.

"Goodnight, Elle," he called back.

-

"Emmett!" Elle jumped up and down as soon as he walked through the door. "Did you see in the paper?"

"About the special election?" Emmett shrugged off his jacket. "You'd better study _that_ too, because that is going to show up in Congressional Law, but I can print off some articles for you if you'd—"

"Not _that_, silly!" Elle giggled. "It says there's free ice skating downtown tonight!"

"Elle—" Emmett stretched her name into three syllables. "That's so…_corny_."

"But I've never done it before…" Elle insisted, looking heartbroken.

"Oh, come on…" Emmett sighed, his tone softening. "I thought your parents always took you to Aspen and Vale…"

"They did, but we never went skating! It was so crowded. Come on, pleeease?" Elle begged him.

"Elle, I haven't done it since I was like, ten," Emmett shrugged. "And it's corny. And I'll fall on my face," Emmett looked down at her. "Oh, and I have the _best reason yet_: you're still sick, okay?"

"Emmett, I'm feeling tons better! You can listen to the stethoscope yourself if you don't believe me! Come on, please?" Elle put her hands on her hips. "For me?"

Emmett stared at the ceiling, wondering (once again) _why _he could never say no to little Miss Woods comma Elle. "_Where's_ the stethoscope?" he finally sighed.

"Yay!" Elle hugged him tightly before zipping off to her bedroom.

"I didn't say I was going!" Emmett yelled after her, running a hand through his hair.

"Here!" Elle threw the stethoscope at him. Emmett sighed, closing his eyes lightly as he slipped it into his ears.

"Inhale," he told her quietly, slipping the small, metal circle to the center of her back. The noise was still crackling, though much better than it had sounded for their whole two weeks together. "Exhale."

Elle looked at him. "Pleeease? I'm _so _cooped up, I could just—"

"We might as well," Emmett shrugged after a moment.

"Thankyousomuch!" Elle squealed. She ran to the coat closet and immediately began to pull snow-clothes directly over her pajamas. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!"

"Take it easy," Emmett laughed. "Dress warmly. We won't stay out long; I have to go in really early tomorrow. And _I don't want you to get sicker_, okay, Elle?"

"Come on, Emmett!" Elle grabbed his hand. "Let's go!"

"Ten seconds, Woods, I need to get my jacket," Emmett laughed again as he pulled his old corduroy coat out of the closet.

As soon as he had carefully zipped himself up, Emmett felt an eager tugging at his arm. He grinned like an idiot as he placed a hand over hers. This would be a good night.

-

"Oh, it's so pretty!" Elle gasped, her purple-mittened hands jumping to her face. Emmett had to agree as he gazed out upon the clear, clean ice that reflected the moon and city lights spectacularly.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Emmett gazed down at her in concern.

"Come on, Emmett!" she slapped him on the shoulder. "Let's go! Look, there's no one there!"

"Might as well get all our falling done before more people show up," Emmett mumbled, lacing the rented skates up on his feet.

"Oh, don't be so grumpy! This is a great way to spend Christmas break!" Elle giggled.

"It is," Emmett agreed as they, together, stumbled onto the ice. "But _don't fall_."

"God, I won't, Emmett," Elle stumbled a little on the ice. "_You're a mean one, Mister Grinch_…" she began to sing.

"Oh, come on, now," Emmett gave her a pretend-hurt look. "This feels more like Charlie Brown's Christmas anyways…"

"You blockhead!" Elle giggled, poking Emmett, who lost his balance and fell. "Emmett! I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine," Emmett laughed, staggering as he tried to get back to his feet. "So does this mean you're the Christmas queen?" Emmett asked teasingly.

"Bleaagh!" Elle giggled, imitating Snoopy. "Do you still think this is corny?"

"No," Emmett admitted after a minute of consideration. "But I always have a good time when I'm with you." Emmett felt his face redden as he turned to look at the moon again. Elle laughed.

"Back at you," Elle laughed kindly. Emmett felt a warm pleasure enter his gut, and he smiled giddily.

"Elle, you should know, I really—," Emmett was cut off as he fell again with a shout. Elle began to laugh, so hard that she fell too. "Watch it!" he told her sharply as he tried and failed to catch her somewhat.

"This is fun!" Elle smiled, lying back on the ice, making no attempt to get to her feet. "My face hurts…"

"It's bright red. Come on, let's go back," Emmett carefully got to his feet, and then offered Elle his hand.

"You're such a gentleman," Elle giggled as she helped herself up using Emmett's hand. "It's so _cute_. Do you want to get something to eat?"

Emmett looked around tentatively, not quite sure. "Oh, what the hell, why not?"

They got back late, far later than Emmett had originally intended. Elle's rosy face had gotten quite pale, and she was coughing again, much, much harder than she had been.

"Get to bed, Elle, okay?" Emmett told her as she leaned against him while the tall man unlocked his door. "And you don't have to wake up to see me off. You need your rest and I'm leaving early anyways."

"O-okay" Elle coughed. Emmett helped her into the bedroom and closed the door as he left her there alone. "Goodnight, Emmett," Elle mumbled hoarsely.

Emmett leaned against the door, three little words pushing against his lips. _I love you… so much_. Emmett took a deep breath, trying to press out the words. "I… I had fun, Elle. We should do this again sometime…"

"Me too," Elle coughed.

"Goodnight," Emmett told her. Walking to his couch, the green-eyed man bit his lip, wondering if he'd ever get his feelings out into the open.

-

**This is going to get pretty dramatic pretty quickly, so get out your tissue boxes and be prepared to sniffle your way through the next couple of chapters.**

**(Charlie Brown and The Grinch are my two favorite Christmas movies. I hope they're classics enough that everyone got the references.)**


	7. Swift Fear

"Elle?" Emmett tapped on her door. "Can I come in?" There was a grunt of affirmation from the room. Emmett opened it up. "Do you need anything?"

There was a mumbling that the tall man couldn't quite make out. Emmett squatted next to her bed. "What did you say?"

"…some breakfast…" Elle muttered. Her voice was hoarse and raw and breathing was incredibly labored.

Emmett obediently made some oatmeal. Bringing it back to her, Emmett noticed that her was lolling on her shoulders where the pillows propped her up.

"Elle, you sound worse… do you want me to stay home today?"

"Hm-mm…" Elle grunted.

"Okay," Emmett touched her hair softly. "Call me if you need _anything_, okay?"

"I will, Emmett," she told him.

"I'll try to get home early," Emmett patted her leg as he got to her feet. "Take it easy today, okay?"

"Okay—" Elle began to cough violently.

"Want to go see the doctor?"

"Go on, Emmett. I'll be fine," Elle reassured him hoarsely.

"Okay, okay," Emmett smiled. "I'm going. You'll be rid of me. The remote's on top of the TV. Raid the refrigerator. Try not to set anything on fire."

Elle coughed slightly, before responding with a hoarse voice, "Thank you, Emmett. Have a good day."

"You too, Elle," reluctantly, Emmett left for work, worrying his whole day.

-

"I'm home," Emmett called quietly as he entered the apartment. "God, it's cold in here." He rubbed his shoulders. It must have dropped to below 50 degrees!

"Elle?" he said after a moment. "Did the heater go out?"

There was no response. Emmett felt suddenly concerned. "Elle?" he called again. "Are you okay?"

The silence was unbroken.

"Elle!" Emmett's voice rose in panic. He sprinted into the bedroom, where it was even colder. Elle was lying on the floor, blankets around her in a pitiful attempt at warmth. She was trembling, and her even, white teeth were chattering. As Emmett put a hand on her shoulder, he was frightened at how cold her skin felt.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Elle pulled her limbs to her chest. She didn't respond. Emmett's shaking fingers found her neck.

"_Shit_," he whispered, feeling her weak pulse. "Elle, can you hear me?"

"I'm f-fine…" Elle whispered softly. Her voice sounded hoarse and thick, as though she couldn't push the air out.

"I'm taking you to the hospital," Emmett told her, pulling her up into his arms. He quickly wrapped a blanket around her. Emmett stumbled down the staircase, pulling the door shut behind him.

Emmett sped to the hospital, skidding and fishtailing on the icy roads, until he pulled into the parking lot. He leapt out of his car, going over to the passenger side door. Ripping it open, he unbuckled Elle who was ghostly pale.

With a surge of adrenalin, Emmett scooped her up easily into his arms, running across the parking lot towards the emergency room doors. The ice caught the worn, old soles of his shoes, causing him to stumble.

"_Fuck!_" Emmett bellowed, throwing his weight backwards as not to crush the slender weight in his arms. He gasped in pain as his back took the full impact of the fall, a chunk of ice slicing through his shirt and the skin of his back.

Taking a ragged breath, Emmett forced himself to his feet, charging towards the automatic doors, which slid open smoothly.

"Emmett…" Elle murmured, slipping in and out of unconsciousness.

"Is Dr. Okine here?" Emmett panted. "This is her patient, Woods, Elle Woods. She has double pneumonia, and—,"

"Calm down," the receptionist told him. "I'll page her right now."

Emmett paced, not setting Elle down. He stared at the clock. Two minutes passed, but it felt like an eternity to the distressed young man.

"Mr. Forrest?" Dr. Okine appeared around the corner. "Please, bring her back." Emmett immediately strode into the back rooms.

"Why didn't you call an ambulance?" Okine snapped at him.

"Because they would have taken their goddamned time!" Emmett bit back. "You know where I live?! They wouldn't be in _any _hurry to pick up a person living _there_."

"They aren't allowed to discriminate like that, Mr. Forrest," the doctor told him severely. She whipped her stethoscope out from around her neck and placed it in her ears. Her eyebrows contracted as she listened to Elle's breathing.

"Well, they _do_," Emmett told her angrily.

"I need a cart," Okine shouted over her shoulder. A gurney appeared next to her almost instantaneously, and two nurses helped place Elle on it.

"Someone should look at that cut," a nurse offered, pointing to Emmett's back.

Emmett didn't reply as he stared after the double doors through which his lovely blond friend had disappeared. "What will happen to her?" Emmett asked worriedly.

"I don't know; I think they're going to have her breathe intravenously," the nurse dabbed at the cut with iodine.

"Is that bad?" Emmett questioned, twisting away from the stinging liquid.

"They're going to cut a hole at the juncture of her collarbones and feed an oxygen tube directly into her trachea," Emmett stared at the nurse in confusion.

"They're going to pump air directly into her lungs," she clarified.

Emmett paled considerably. "Oh no…"

"We will need to get in immediate contact with her family. Could you give us their number?" the nurse asked.

"Y-yeah… I'll go check her cell phone. It's back at my apartment," Emmett sighed, rubbing between his eyes.

"Is she your girlfriend?" the nurse inquired politely.

Emmett smiled, a wry, sad, hollow thing that twisted his face. "I wish," he mumbled hollowly. "I wish."

**-**

**Too much House = MEDICAL DRAMA TIEM… or not. But these next chapters are going to get majorly emo, so get out thy tissue boxes.**


	8. Blame

Emmett sat outside his apartment in his car, his face in his hands. He hated himself. He hated the fact he was poor, too poor to afford a good heater to keep his sick houseguest warm. He was too poor to afford an apartment that wouldn't turn into an instant refrigerator in the winter. He hated the fact that he was so poor, that ambulances took their own sweet time on the way to his slummy neighborhood.

Emmett hated himself so much. Elle was gravely ill now, because of _him_. Emmett could never forgive himself for that.

His feet dragged as he climbed the stairs to his apartment, opening the door. As cold air exploded outward, Emmett felt his frustration overwhelm him momentarily. "God _dammit!_" he bellowed to no one in particular. Shaking off his anger, Emmett quickly went to his… that is, _Elle's_ bedroom and grabbed her phone from where it was charging on the floor.

He quickly sped through her contacts, finding the one that said "Mommy and Dad." He would have smirked in a different situation: there were three numbers listed, one for Malibu, Aspen, and Cancun.

Emmett's fingers fumbled with the buttons as he dialed the Aspen number.

"Ellie?" a woman's voice came excitedly. "Ellie, did you send a picture of that cute guy you're staying with? You have _got _to bring him to the Mediterranean with us over spring break, I swear, Ellie—"

"Mrs. Woods?" Emmett interrupted.

"This is she…" her voice sounded guarded. "Who is this?"

"My name is Emmett Forrest," he explained quickly. "Elle's been staying with me… did she tell you she was sick?"

"Well, yes, but she said it wasn't serious…?" Mrs. Woods voice quavered.

"It isn't—I mean, it _wasn't_, but…" Emmett squeezed his eyes shut. "I had to take her to the hospital today. They—they…" Emmett coughed slightly. "The doctors think it would be best if you and Mr. Woods came up."

"Ohmigod…" Mrs. Woods gasped. Emmett flinched; she sounded _uncannily_ like Elle. "Okay, is Elle awake?"

"She can't talk—,"

"Ohmigod!"

"—but she's awake," Emmett finished.

"Okay, well tell her that Mom and Daddy are coming up to see her, okay?" Mrs. Woods told him hurriedly. "You said your name was Emmett?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Emmett, thank you so much for taking care of Ellie," the woman sounded sincere.

"The pleasure is all mine," Emmett sighed into the phone. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get back to the hospital."

"Of course, I'll see you later today," Mrs. Woods told him.

"Should I pick you up from the airport?" Emmett asked, quickly deciding he would rent a nice car to pick up Mr. and Mrs. Woods in.

"No, no, we can take care of that," Mrs. Woods said quietly before hanging up.

Emmett sighed, once again hating how poor he was. He could barely impress Elle, and he would never win the approval of her parents…

The wiry man stiffened, suddenly disgusted that he could care about _impressing _the Woods family when Elle was in such grave peril. Giving himself a mental slap on the face, Emmett quickly sped down to his car, returning to the hospital.

-

Elle, once again, was reminded of how much she _hated_ hospitals. She had never been in one like this, though, and it scared her so much that she wanted to cry. But she couldn't, could she? Not with the horrible machine that pumped air in and out of her lungs as tears silently rolled down her face.

There was a feeling of sheets against her skin that she hated. All the material was the same, cheap, sterile, textureless cotton. She wanted silk. She wanted linen. She wanted leather, suede, or just a rough potato sack, but she did _not_ want this material.

Elle's voice had been taken, along with control of her lungs. With that went her sense of smell, and she couldn't turn her head to look at the door without being in unbearable, albeit silent, agony. She could hear, though, now. She could hear concerned murmurs and footsteps and weeping and flat lining heart monitors and yelling and all the millions of horrible hospital sounds.

She kept her ears perked for a certain set of footsteps. Soon, she heard it: the click-of two-inch heels, perhaps a size eight. The heels sounded expensive, but demure, worn by a rich, professional woman. Then, she heard the squeak of too-worn soles. It was a loud noise that would come from large feet. The noise got closer and closer, but stopped right outside the doors. _Come in_, Elle wanted to say. _I'm begging you, come in!_

Elle heard concerned murmurs, a distressed groan, a questioning voice, and a sad-toned answer.

The door was almost silent as it opened, but Elle could hear the noise of the squeaky soles and feel the breath of cool air from the hallway.

"Elle," she heard Emmett murmur. Elle smiled slightly as she closed her eyes, listening pleasantly to Emmett's voice. It was harried and tight, all trace of good humor completely gone, but it still sounded so sweet and caring. She felt the air move as Emmett came closer, and she wished she could smell him, though she couldn't draw air in through her nose anymore. Emmett always smelled like generic laundry detergent, generic deodorant, and generic shaving cream. He didn't have time or money for trivialities like aftershave and cologne, and to Elle, that smelled wonderful.

Tears began to well up in her eyes as she wondered when she'd be able to smell anything—especially _him_—again.

His face came into her line of vision, narrow and pale, with his green eyes wide and shining like emeralds. "Easy, easy," Emmett's voice came soothingly as he dabbed at the corners of her eyes with the sleeve of his old corduroy jacket. Elle's hand found his and gave an appreciative squeeze.

"Your parents are on their way here," Emmett told her. "They'll probably come in late tonight."

Emmett had honestly never realized how expressive Elle's eyes were until they were her only form of communication. Bright and blue as a winter sky, now they were wide with terror and pain and frustration and helplessness and so many other heart-breaking emotions. Emmett, too, felt helpless at his inability to make any of the things disturbing her go away.

"I'm going to stay here until they come, okay?" he asked.

Elle squeezed his hand, and her eyes filled with warm gratefulness. Emmett allowed her a small smile before he started to walk to the armchair sitting in the corner. The soft hand in his tightened in fear of his parting.

Her eyes made one plea: _"Don't leave me."_

**-**

…**yes, we are getting our angst on. Please be patient with me. And (the rest of this is spoilers, so if you don't want any, STOP READING NOW) I will get back to humor and happy endings, but right now, we need to get into some mega-character development. You'll see why.**


	9. First Impressions

Emmett was asleep, fast asleep on the couch, dreaming of happier Christmases, when there was a familiar sound: the businesslike click of stilettos. He spun around on the couch, his eyes quickly finding Elle, where she still lay.

So who else would wear stilettos to a hospital? He glanced at his watch: it was 1 AM. Elle seemed to be sleeping peacefully, though every few seconds, the silence was broken by a mechanical-sounding puff of air from the machine that breathed for her.

The door swung open, and an older woman with white-blond hair came in, towering on her blue stilettos. A round, balding man came in after her.

"Ellie!" the woman exclaimed. Elle didn't stir.

"She's on a sedative," a tired-looking nurse informed them from the hallway. "Please, try not to wake her," the nurse went back to his rounds.

"Poor, poor button," the man who Emmett assumed to be Elle's father, looked sadly down at his daughter.

"Oh, Ellie," the woman sighed.

"Mr. and Mrs. Woods?" Emmett inquired, clearing his throat. "I-I'm Emmett Forrest, a friend of Ellie—," Emmett coughed, feeling utterly idiotic. "of _Elle's_."

Elle thought she was having a weird dream. Above her bed stood her mother, towering in a powder-blue designer parka, standing next to a disheveled-looking Emmett who was stuttering his way (_adorable_) through introducing himself. To be honest, Emmett looked a little as though he had been in a fight. His face was flushed, his hair was askew, and there was a tear down the back of his shirt, exposing a cut. _Maybe Mommy beat him up? _Elle wondered to herself.

That thought made her giggle inside her mind, and a smile leapt to her face.

"Ellie!" Mrs. Woods cried out suddenly. Immediately, she and her husband began to fawn and coo over their daughter. Deciding this was as good a time to bow out as any, Emmett left, heading to the men's room.

Washing his face, Emmett glanced up in the mirror. He had a _wicked_ case of bedhead, his shirt was dirty and torn from when he had fallen, and his eyes had enormous, dark circles of fatigue beneath them.

_So much for first impressions,_ Emmett sighed bitterly to himself as he left.

He walked towards Elle's room. Hearing voices, he stalled, reading the placard. Woods, Elle. Woods comma Elle. There was a red star by her name and, between the weeping coming from Mrs. Woods from inside the room and what the doctor had informed him of yesterday, Emmett wondered what kind of death sentence a little red asterisk indicated.

He sucked in his breath and exhaled slowly. He did it again. And again. And again. Would Elle ever experience the blessed sensation of air moving in and out of her mouth as she breathed, talked, laughed, cried, sang, belched—Emmett's eyes popped open. Did Elle Woods belch? He couldn't quite see her doing that. Ditto with yelling at sports games. That would be awfully funny, though.

Hah. Emmett wondered if he were still capable of laughter. When was the last time he had laughed, really _laughed_?

It had been the night they'd gone out skating, which seemed a lifetime, as opposed to a weekend, ago. They had gone out for dinner, Italian, because Emmett loved it, and if Elle wanted something else, she had refused to say. They had chatted for hours over plates of steaming breadsticks, spaghetti, and gelato, completely unwilling to end what, to Emmett anyways, was the best night of his life. As the maître d hovered around, silently begging them to leave, Elle joked that they were like those two dogs from that movie, where they sat in the alley and ate spaghetti as they were serenaded by an accordion. She had scrunched her face and asked aloud how anyone could find accordions to be _serenading?_

Emmett had laughed aloud at that, as it was a very honest observation. The same went for the comparison to the movie: in the green-eyed man's opinion, Elle Woods and Emmett Forrest were _exactly_ like Lady and the Tramp.

With that thought, he made a decision, though it sort of dragged on his pride, to think that after 26 years of walking on God's green earth, he still needed… Oh, to hell with it, Emmett decided viciously as a million worries churned his stomach.

-

**OH, MAKE THE DRAMA STOP!!!**

**(wait, I'm the one doing it…!)**

**For those of you who want to revert back to humor-mode, PLEASE BE PATIENT WITH ME!**


	10. All I Want for Christmas is You

Emmett stared at his phone. He was tired, _so _tired. If worry really did give people wrinkles and grey hair, Emmett probably resembled a man fifty years his senior.

Christmas was in four days. His mother expected him home tomorrow… but _Elle_. Oh, his poor, poor Elle, lying there, pale and drawn, with that horrible machine breathing for her. He would not leave her alone on Christmas, not like this.

Not after Dr. Okine had explained the prognosis. Christmas day. She'd be dead by Christmas day, the woman had said with the saddest eyes Emmett had ever seen.

Emmett sucked in his breath, his fingers trembling as he dialed his mother's number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mom," Emmett murmured, trying to keep his voice steady. A tingling entered the tip of his nose, and Emmett glanced over to where Elle was lying.

"Emmy! How are you? What did you buy me for Christmas?" his mother teased.

"Mom…" Emmett's voice quavered. He took another deep breath.

"Em? Is something wrong?" Mrs. Forrest asked her son.

"Y-yeah," Emmett hiccupped. He would not cry. _He would not cry_. That would completely upset Elle, freak out his mother, and—he snuffled loudly.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"I met this girl…"

"A _girl_ made you cry?" his mother squawked. "Emmett, you're twenty-six! This is—,"

"Ma, let me finish!" Emmet said a little too loudly. Elle stirred on the sterile white bed, and Emmett placed a hand on her back, rubbing in small, soothing circles as she began to cough weakly.

"What was that noise?" Mrs. Forrest inquired suspiciously.

"…_her._" Emmett whispered softly, trying to disguise his choked-up voice.

"Tell your mom, Emmett," she said in a warning voice, her slight Jersey accent slurring.

"…she's beautiful. Her name is Elle and she's from Malibu. She's at Harvard law. I was going to bring her home for Christmas, but…" Emmett swallowed. "She's sick, Ma."

"What? What do you mean, sick?"

"She—she got pneumonia… and then it got really worse because of me… and… and, Momma, they said she's gonna die," Emmett got up quickly, leaving the room so Elle did not have to hear him.

"Oh, god, Emmett…" his mother sighed breathily. Her voice was suddenly very somber. "I'm going to come up, Emmy. You just stay with her, okay?"

"Okay," Emmett hung up the phone. He inhaled, then exhaled.

Suddenly, the hospital spun. These walls, this scent, this whole place was— Oh, _Elle! _This was… this was so horrible.

"Oh, Emmy," the his mother sighed, hanging up her phone. "My poor Emmy…"

-

It was Christmas Eve. Paulette had managed to get enough time off salon (though she was doing what she described as a quote, "shitload of mani-pedis" for various Christmas parties) to come in and set up a small Christmas tree.

Elle's mother was downstairs with Paulette, bonding two cups of fat-free frozen yogurt, the man suspected. Mr. Woods was slumped on the couch… _Emmett_'s couch, fast asleep, looking like what he was: a tired, old man who didn't know what was happening to him.

Emmett, for the first time in quite a while had Elle to himself. Her blue eyes found his green ones as he sat next to her on the bed.

"Elle…" Emmett whispered, his voice choked. He grabbed her hand, stroking each one of the fingers and rubbing the palm gently with his thumbs. Elle crooked her fingers around his, twining their long digits together.

"I…" Emmett laughed, a sad, hollow sound that echoed how empty he felt. "I planned a whole damned speech for this… A lawyer's supposed to be good with words, y'know? But I can barely string to of them together when I'm with you…" He paused, thinking slowly about the rush of noise that had just come from his lips.

"…Elle, I love you, okay?" Emmett gasped tentatively. "I really do. I've loved you since you showed up by the benches in that… that ridiculous Bugs Bunny costume—," there was a noise behind him almost like a giggle as she remembered "—and…" He swallowed, still playing with the slender hand he held between his two big awkward ones. One thing Emmett had learned by watching prosecutor after prosecutor was that, when there was truth that needed to be impacted emotionally, it needed to be said simply. And so, he did just that. "I love you so much. That's all there is to it."

"Get some rest, okay?" Emmett told her, feeling like the most miserably unromantic, unsympathetic asshole that ever walked the earth. He rose to his feet, but he felt a tug on the leg of his pants. Elle gave him a look, a look that said, _where do you think you're going, mister?_

Emmett grinned in spite of himself, in spite of the fact that this was, supposedly, Elle's last night to live. Which, Emmett figured, was a load of bullshit, because he had never seen more fire in anyone's eyes. Emmett kissed her forehead, feeling the smooth skin explode with heat beneath his lips. He looked down at her again, a little more tenderly as he carefully spread his tattered coat over Elle before kicking off his shoes to curl up next to her in the hospital bed.

Okine would completely kick his ass when she saw him like this, Emmett realized, his bravado fading. He might wake up, and Elle wouldn't be there any more. That was an unbearable thought, but, as he nestled his head into the pillows, he knew that everything he'd never wanted to face would come like a tidal wave tomorrow. And who better to surf it with than a bikini babe from Malibu?

-

**AND THE SRS BZNS IS OVER!**


	11. Santa, Baby

Elle had woken up to her share of guys. Some where devastatingly handsome, like Warner (who hadn't even sent a get-well card, the bastard), others were the average, clean-cut, hungover frat boy. Emmett was by far her favorite. His hair seemed to get tousled by a passing breeze; sleep wreaked absolute havoc on the dark locks. Okine had slipped in quietly on 6 AM rounds, and, having been so shocked by Elle's drastic improvement, extracted the breathing tube, closed the wound in her trachea, and left the blond to take a few deep, joyful breaths. Elle had joked quietly to herself that it was because she had the best, most adorable, most loving, _cutest_ heater in the world, helping her stay warm.

Elle had tugged Emmett's warm, cozy corduroy jacket around her shoulders as she, trying not to touch the place with the white bandage was taped cleanly over the hollow of her neck. She pressed her spine against Emmett's side, and slowly, happily, fell back to sleep.

Emmett felt his shoulder twitch as a hand shook it. His eyes blinked open blearily; he saw a mass of blond. Emmett had many a dream where he got to see this blond hair next to him in bed, but, between the beep of a heart monitor, the sterile sheets, and the feeling of several different sets of eyes burning into the back of his head, reality came spinning back to him.

But it could only be a dream, because Elle sat up next to him, a lovely grin on her face as she stroked his cheek, her soft fingertips catching on the stubble. "Merry Christmas," her voice was hoarse from lack of use, but Emmett doubted he would ever hear a more beautiful sound.

The moment was broken as a scratchy voice shattered the warm, adoring silence. "Emmett, goddamn, I though I raised you better than that!" He felt some fingers dig into his bed-head and drag him out of the bed. Emmett's socked feet scrabbled on the cool tile of the floor.

"Ma-a-a…" Emmett dragged the word out into three syllables as he was carried into the hallway.

"You're very lucky that little girl's parents have been at their hotel all morning!" Mrs. Forrest snarled at her son. "Think how they would have felt, their baby daughter canoodling with an older man!"

"_Canoodling_, Mom, seriously?" Emmett stood to his full height, making his hair basically inaccessible to his mother's clawlike hands. "And I'm _three_ years older than her…!"

"That's not the point; if it were my daughter in bed with a man I'd barely met, I'd go after his balls with a set'a hedge-clippers!" Mrs. Forrest stamped her foot for emphasis.

"There's food for thought…" Emmett mumbled, not quite wanting to wake up to that interesting visual. "Ma-a-a."

"Cut that out, ya sound like a sheep," his mother growled. "Now get back in there."

"You didn't want to know what I got you for Christmas?" Emmett asked, though secretly he had barely thought about buying gifts.

"In-laws?" she quipped.

"Ma-a-a!!!" Emmett yelped in shock as his face reddened with embarrassment.

"You sheep!"

-

Elle liked having Emmett sitting next to her. As Emmett made polite conversation with her parents, Elle played his hand. She extended and folded each long finger and traced each line in his palm with a fingertip. Emmett was surprised how easy it was to converse despite all the pleasant sensations in his hand. It probably had something to do with getting his feelings out into the open, because, as soon as the weight of unrequited love had left his heart, he felt light enough to fly.

"…Ellie's dad and I picked this out for you last night at Macy's…" Mrs. Woods told him warmly, pressing a folded sweater into Emmett's available hand. The fabric felt rich and soft, cashmere, no doubt, in a warm marigold color that would work wonders for his pale skin.

"Thank you very much," Emmett murmured, unfolding the nice gift to get a better look at it. A clatter came as something fell to the floor. Draping his sweater across his knee (Emmett was rather unwilling to disentangle his hand from Elle's) he reached down, picking up… a car key?

"We didn't get that at Macy's, but we hope you'll like it all the same," Mr. Woods laughed at his own joke.

"Um," Emmett's eyes bugged; his hand went limp in Elle's. "I-I don't know what to—Thank you… thank you so much…!" Emmett's tongue tangled in his mouth; he stared at the key, the four quarters of the blue-and-white circle making him feel proud. A nice car. A car he could feel proud of driving up to Callahan's office in. He wouldn't be parking his battered old Volvo in the farthest corners of the parking lot any more, trying not to exit when anyone he knew was looking… _Wow_. "Thanks," Emmett said again, a face-splitting grin overtaking him.

The day passed like that, Elle and Emmett getting showered with presents with nothing to give back. Paulette had taken Mrs. Woods and Mrs. Forrest down to the Hair Affair for manicures (of course), and, as his wife had instructed him, Mr. Woods was out, trying to find a good gift for Emmett's mom and Paulette.

Emmett, once again, was lying next to Elle, feeling like the king of the world. Elle's head was on his chest and her hand was on his abdominals (or lack thereof, he noted with more humor than bitterness). One arm of his wound around her shoulders and the other tucked behind his head, propping him up enough so he could see her.

"So did Warner ever stop by?" Emmett asked casually, though his mind was tense.

"No," Elle said. Emmett could tell by her voice she was smiling.

"Alright," Emmett strained his neck to peer down at her, "what's so funny, Miss Woods comma Elle?"

"If he'd come, Paulette would have beaten the snot out of him…" Elle giggled.

"She'd have to take a number," Emmett mumbled, though he knew it was an idle brag.

"Hey, Paulette met her boyfriend by breaking his nose, Em," Elle pointed out, giving him a poke in the stomach.

"Good point," Emmett smiled down at her. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know," Elle said, grinning. Emmett waited for two beats. "I love you too."

"Took you long enough," Emmett grumbled, which was unfortunate, because his mother walked it just then, and, as Elle gave him an even harder poke in the stomach, Emmett made more sheep-noises as his furious mother dragged him out of the room by his follicles… _again_.

**-**

**Snuggly times! Insulting Warner! Sheep! Back to humor! Yays!**

**(I personally like to imagine Mrs. Emmett as a female Mel Brooks xD)**


	12. To a Woman's Heart

Emmett felt like a _stud_ as he drove around in his shiny new BMW, the one with the smooth curves and the deep green paint job and the dark leather upholstery. This was a _nice_ car.

As her parents had brought in a sumptuous brunch for their Last Day Here, the 26th, Elle had covertly slipped Emmett her credit card with a whispered list of what to buy for whom.

He had done his shopping (a tie for Mr. Woods, spring green, as Elle had requested, a gift card to a dress store for her mother, incredibly expensive chocolates for his mother, and a Victoria's Secret gift card for Paulette).

Elle had instructed him to 'buy something nice for yourself.' Emmett had picked out a pink tie, knowing that Elle would love it, even if the entire law office would snicker. He knew Elle had probably intended him to spend more than $15, but Emmett honestly didn't care.

He made his way back to the hospital, though his eyes halted at a rather fancy jewelry store. They had huge signs advertising a huge sale, and Emmett realized suddenly that he hadn't gotten Elle anything for Christmas.

Walking inside, quietly wondering what he could be thinking, Emmett shrunk back as a sharp-looking saleswoman approached.

"Can I help you find anything?" she asked, her tone much kinder than Emmett had first assumed.

"…to be honest, I've never shopped for jewelry before…" Emmett mumbled.

"Oh? Well, she must be really special if you're making an after-Christmas foray into it for her…" the saleslady winked knowingly. "What are you looking for, a ring?"

"N-no!" Emmett yelped. Between his mother and this woman, he doubted his quickly-beating heart could stand much more of this abuse.

"Ohhh, this is a first-year gift?" the lady peered up at him. "Well, we have a very nice selection of necklaces over here…"

Emmett and the saleswoman pored over necklace after necklace, finally agreeing on one that wasn't too flashy, too big, too small, too fancy, too simple, too silver, too gold (_Shopping for jewelry is hard_, he decided harriedly)

The saleswoman had identified it as a white-gold chain with a small, beautifully cut emerald dangling demurely from it. The gem had three, rounded sides, and it caught the light magnificently.

Emmett shelled over his own credit card, closing his eyes, a little nervous to hear the damage on his bank account.

"Your total comes to $74.45," the saleswoman told him. Emmett's eyes shot open.

"That's _all_?" he gaped.

"You were wise to shop on a sale-day!" the woman grinned. To save the boy's pride, she decided not to mention that she had punched in the code for her employee discount, which managed to take the price under a hundred dollars.

"Well, thank you very much!" Emmett grinned.

As he slid into his _shiny_ car, Emmett smiled happily. He felt, for the first time in his life…_successful_. He was driving a nice car. He was going to bring a fancy Christmas present to a lovely young woman. This was the life he'd dreamed of when he had fought for his scholarships and worked his night jobs.

This, Emmett decided fervently, was everything he'd ever wanted and more.

The snow continued to fall gently as Emmett pulled into the hospital parking lot, and he floated, rather than walked, to Elle's room. As he stood outside the door, he quickly put on the pale-pink tie that Elle had unknowingly bought him for Christmas. Tucking in his white button-down shirt and brushing the snow from his hair, he held his breath as he opened the door.

"Oh, Emmett, I'm so happy we could say good-bye to you!" Mrs. Woods quickly pulled him into a tight hug, kissing him on both cheeks. She released him and gave him a final appraising look before smiling up at him sincerely.

"It was nice to meet you," Mr. Woods shook Emmett's hand kindly, his smile warm.

"Thank you," Emmett paused. "Do you need a ride to the airport?"

"Oh, heavens no, dear!" Mrs. Woods laughed. "You've been out shopping for us all day. Thank you so much for everything you've done for Ellie, and us."

"We have a plane to catch," Mr. Woods interjected. Emmett watched happily as the two parents kissed their daughter good-bye, before leaving the room. He watched out the window as a long, white limo pulled up to the doors and picked the couple up.

"Thank-you for doing my Christmas shopping for me! Warner never liked shopping, but you really took it like a man," Elle smiled happily up at him

"Are you kidding? I love shopping when stuff's on sale," Emmett kissed her forehead lightly as he sat next to her.

"Ohmigod, I love you," Elle moaned ecstatically, causing Emmett to flush a dark red. Elle's fingers slipped around his tie, pulling him in to kiss him deeply before she released him.

"Nice tie," she giggled, playing with the pink silk.

"You gave it to me for Christmas," Emmett smirked at her, placing his hands over hers.

"Oh, well I have very nice taste, don't I?" Elle laughed.

"You've got good taste in men, too," Emmett ventured humorously.

"Oh, shut up!" Elle poked him in the shoulder, though her laughter increased in volume. Emmett laughed too.

"And I got you a Christmas present too," he said after the joyous noise had died down.

"You spent your entire winter break tutoring me and taking care of me. You carried me to the hospital and didn't leave my side until you were sure I was okay. And _now you got me a Christmas gift_?" Elle cocked an eyebrow at him. Emmett felt a bundle of nerves clench in his stomach. "I really _do_ have great taste in men!" Elle giggled.

The moment became slightly more serious, though it was still joyful, as her silent, slender fingers carefully undid the ribbon on the long, thin box. Untaping the pretty gold foil, she opened the box.

"Oh, Emmett…" her blue eyes lit up as they trained upon the necklace. "This is… this is wonderful…"

"I'm glad you like it," Emmett's face broke into a shy, tentative grin.

"Would you put it on for me?" Elle asked. Emmett nodded, swallowing his nerves. His fingers fumbled with the clasp as he carefully slipped the slender chain around her neck. The pale gold shone magnificently, even under the fluorescent reading lamp. The little emerald nestled into the hollow of her neck, resting on the white bandage where the breathing tube had been inserted.

"It's beautiful," Elle smiled, touching the gemstone tentatively.

"I don't want to sound too cliché," Emmett told her, leaning forward as he cupped her head in one hand to kiss her softly on the cheek, "but so are you."

**-**

**O_O you guys probably all have cavities now. **

**: -) my tendency towards enormous amounts of fluff aside, I hope you liked that and I hope it wasn't **_**too **_**sappy!**

**I'll be completely away from my computer for the coming week, but, no worries, I'll pick up exactly where we left off as soon as I return.**

**(and we poor people know that, during a recession, there is nothing quite as orgasmic as shopping on a big sale, even for men!)**


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